


It's Called Impulsive For A Reason

by slitchy_chan



Category: God of War (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Related, Fights, Freya takes care of Atreus like her own, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Magic, Minor Character(s), Protectiveness, a bit ooc sorry, a split second of estrangement, despite what was canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27892396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slitchy_chan/pseuds/slitchy_chan
Summary: When Atreus and Kratos get into a fight, all Atreus can think is that he needs to get away to anywhere else. "Anywhere else" turns out to be the front doorstep of likely the last person in Midgard he should be attempting to see. Why he went there of all places though...
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. [1] Always and Never

**Author's Note:**

> I have this headcanon that if Atreus ever went to Freya's doorstep she wouldn't turn him away,,,

[-]

" _Boy_." Kratos hardened his voice as they approached the door to their home.

Atreus didn't respond. He hadn't said anything since they left the area of their most recent clash with monsters. Quietly, he made an attempt to wipe the blood off his bow, which was proving to be pointless since his hand had a fair few open wounds and was instead adding to the crimson streaks on the wood. He stopped walking at his Fathers voice though, keeping his gaze to the ground while observing the result Fimbulwinter had on the land, snow, cold day and nights, then more snow. 

Kratos made his way to his side, kneeling in front of him and closely watching his sons face staying as blank as possible, but he could see the anger in his eyes, he could see by the way his hands were shaking that he was still upset. Atreus still had a small splatter of blood along the left side of his face, part of it smudged from what was likely a failed attempt at wiping it off; the blood making some of his deeper scars stick out. Kratos wanted to reach out and wipe it off, but his mind was full of too many other thoughts to focus on just one thing.

Instead, he held his hand out for his bow first, which Atreus silently handed to him. Kratos moved gingerly as he set it on the ground beside them, keeping his sons mind from the object as he gently took his hand. It was still bleeding, he noticed, so just like he had done before their journey had began, he found a part of his attire that he could spare and tore it off, gently wrapping it around his hand. 

They frequently fought many manner of creature on their journey, some that Kratos couldn't have imagined the frail child he saw only a few winters ago now fighting the way he did.

It started when they were making one last stop for a specific resource, something the Huldra Brothers had promised could be used to improve some of their equipment. They were attacked by Hel-Walkers and a few Nightmares, creatures which _weren't_ as uncommon lately as they probably should've been, but there wasn't anything special about this fight, _there shouldn't have been_ , since this wasn't something they hadn't faced before _._

So, they attacked. Kratos didn't ponder his now subconscious act of switching between weapons and fists when necessary in battle, Atreus attacked when he had an opening with skills he'd been taught and fired his arrows when told so...

But then things happened just a bit too quickly.

One Hel-Walker that escaped Kratos peripheral became much more difficult to deal with when he realized a moment too late that it was possessed by a Nightmare, meaning now he had to find an opening to deliver a taught axe skill dubbed _the grinding storm_ as much as possible to damage the vessel. It would be difficult, since a _possessed_ Hel-Walker wouldn't be as stunned as a normal one, could still attack, and _inconveniently_ would constantly regenerate health until the Nightmare left its body. This pulled his attention away from his son, now having to prepare to take whatever followed when the Hel-Walker suddenly raised its weapon to attack.

Atreus had finished taking down the last roaming Nightmare when he recognized the possessed creature his father was fighting, its back to him while Kratos attacked and locked it down front the front with an axe attack. _It should be stunned_ , Atreus noticed.

He acted on impulse when he watched the monster raise its weapon to deliver a blow that looked different than what he first thought it was. 

Dropping his bow, he unsheathed his knife and lunged towards the monster, jumping onto its back and stabbing the knife repeatedly into the creature's head, neck, shoulder- _wherever he could-_ all till the terrifying floating creature launched itself out of its vessel and floated to put space between them. 

The Hel-Walker collapsed under Atreus's weight, his stabbing never ceased. The Hel-Walker growled and snarled as it struggled to get Atreus off, but it didn't take long for one final stab to kill it. Atreus heard the Nightmare letting out a shriek, followed by the squelching sound as an axe impales it, dying and withering to nothing.

It was a painful silence between them that followed, nothing more than their breathing as they regained themselves.

Atreus was distracted with struggling to pull his knife free from the base of the creatures neck, getting close to finally wrenching it free when he recognized his fathers heavy footsteps coming towards him and just how close they were. A hand firmly grasped his arm, yanking him from the corpse and pulling him a few steps away.

The first thing Kratos noticed was Atreus's breathing, quick, ragged and shallow, similar to an occasion not too long ago. The only reason he was able to keep his composure and _not_ panic was watching his son pausing to take deeper breaths, he didn't fall to his knees coughing up blood, his forehead didn't feel hot to the touch; he was merely calming from a rush of battle, something that didn't bring _any_ reassurance to Kratos. 

"That was _careless_." he eventually speaks, his voice steady, but his tone berating.

Atreus swayed on his feet for a split second before suddenly going still, his eyes searching between Kratos's in an almost confused daze. Once he seemed to process what he'd said, his face twisted to anger. 

" _What_?" he gaped, "But... but I _saved_ you _!_ " 

"I was handling it-"

" _I_ _protected you!_ " Atreus stood tall now, his shoulders tensed. The anger in his eyes left Kratos's heart feeling heavy. "Was I supposed to just _let you_ get hurt by its magi-"

"What you are _supposed_ to do is _listen_ , to heed my lessons for I do not tell you them without reason." he interrupts, speaking through clenched teeth.

"I _do_ follow your lessons! I had an opening, there weren't any other threats around and I _knew_ I could do it!"

Kratos tightened his hold on Atreus's arm for a second before abruptly letting go, pressing one foot on the Hel-Walker's back and grasping the hilt of the dagger. The amount of resistance that followed as Kratos angrily yanked it free made him feel unsettled, but he controlled his features and hardened his stare.

" _Nothing_ about this shows me control. It was reckless _,_ it was dangerous and it very well could have cost you your life."

Atreus turned away and instead walked over to his bow, leaning to pick it up and noticing the gashes on his hand. He does his best to be as inconspicuous about it as he can as he sets his bow back over his shoulder. 

"Whatever," he mumbles, "not like it'd matter to you if it did, guess to you I can't do anything right." he scowls at the blood that'd dripped onto the snow below him.

"Atreus, that is not what I-"

"Just forget it. Sorry for saving you." he turned and began heading back towards the stave. He wanted nothing more than to get away from the area and just find something to distract himself with, he'd take anything at this point. 

Kratos wordlessly followed behind. 

They didn't speak until they were back in front of the house, where Kratos had stopped him and looked him over.

Atreus winced at the pressure from the wrapping around his hand, but stayed quiet.

Once Kratos was confident enough that his hand wasn't inflamed and risking infection, he pulled Atreus's knife from its place tucked on his belt and held it out. Atreus frowned, his features not hiding any of his emotion as he quietly took the knife back and sheathed it back into his hilt. He stepped past Kratos and walked to the door, opening it and letting out a shaky breath when he entered.

They didn't come home to an empty house that often, they still had Mimir with them, normally bringing him with them on certain trips, but for the most part he was here when they didn't need him. He was on a shelf they had created for him, a book Atreus had enchanted to turn the page was propped up in front of him, but he seemed to have fallen asleep while they were gone.

He stirred awake however at the sound of the door opening, eyes locked on them in an instant. He prepared to greet them, but fell silent after noticing the grim expressions on their face and the weight of tension between them when they settled inside.

Wisely, he remained silent.

"Atreus," Kratos started again, "we must discuss this."

"Why bother? You've done this before, I know how it ends." he muttered, walking past Mimir and pulling his bow off his shoulder. Kratos simply raised an eyebrow, remaining quiet and waiting for him to elaborate. "I _save_ you. I _protect_ you-!" he raised his voice, turning to face his father, "but guess what? It's _never_ good enough!" he shouted, getting worked up.

Kratos took a few hesitant steps forward. "Atreus..."

Atreus angrily threw his bow onto the bed, his face twisting between angered and hurt. 

"No matter what I do there's _always_ something wrong with it! You never say thank you, you never think I've done something right-"

" _Boy_ , calm down-"

"You're never proud of me!" he shouts, his voice cracked and filled with hurt.

Kratos took a quick step forward, but Atreus was moving before he could approach him, shoving past Kratos and running for the door.

" _Atreus!_ "

By the time Kratos reached the door, Atreus had run beyond his range and disappeared down the path leading to the mountains. Kratos wanted to go after him, he _should have_ gone after him, but he felt frozen where he stood, felt all he could do was watch his son flee.

His heart ached, it felt heavy.

"Oh... I don't suppose you could use the advice of a wise, reanimated head, brother?" he heard from within the house.

His aching heart was replaced with something unfamiliar, he couldn't place it as anything other than along the lines of miserable. He'd forgotten about Mimir and his presence entirely.

" _No_." Kratos snapped, convinced he wouldn't understand despite the fact he had heard and saw everything that just happened. He knew Mimir would actually be the best option for finding out what to do next, but he didn't want to admit to needing his help.

"You sure?" Mimir offered again, knowing full well what Kratos would do, especially when it came to his son. 

Kratos stepped away from the door, leaving it open and quietly moved to sit near him. Mimir didn't comment, he had no repartee for the conversation that was about to follow.

This wasn't a petty disagreement between two people, this was a very real situation between a broken hearted child and his father with no clue what to do.


	2. [2] Observed

Atreus loved exploring. 

He could spend hours just wandering the forest and looking at all the new things there were to see. His mother used to take him when he was feeling well enough to walk, which wasn't common. She'd bundle him in furs, take his hand and walk with him around the woods. They wouldn't go past the stave, but she would take him just far enough to show him areas of the forest and mountains that they'd learned to call home too. He loved the stories she'd tell, the history and knowledge she retold of the things they saw was always one of Atreus's favorite parts about their walks. 

He knew where he was, recognizing the plants he passed only grew in certain areas. He then recognized he was no longer within the stave, meaning he wasn't protected and knew he had to be cautious. His path was a bit different, since he had to take detours around areas he wouldn't be able to get past, but evidently he had no idea _where_ he was going. 

It wasn't until he approached the bridge that he and his father had met Brok on that he realized he didn't have his bow. He felt a wave of relief at the familiar feel of his knife in his hilt, but knew that it would eventually be useless if he came across any monsters. 

He crossed the bridge, seeing the area that Brok had once set up his shop at. Sometimes if Atreus thought long enough about Brok or Sindri, he could faintly hear in the back of his mind the sound of metal work. 

Now he was faced with an area he couldn't take the main path through, he'd have to find a detour around. After some time on their journey, it wasn't something a little climbing and mental mapping wouldn't fix.

Once his feet hit solid ground and his mind stopped racing from the fear of slipping, he could observe the area. He knew where he was. They'd been there before, distinctly remembering his thought that it looked like something a caravan would've set up, except it was littered with bodies of enemies and innocents. 

He quietly passed through it, keeping his had hovering by his knife in case something came out to attack. Thankfully, nothing did. 

Amidst the silence he was walking through came a sudden sound, the caw of a bird that wasn't normal. He slowly moved his eyes along the area before his eyes settled on the source, a glowing and see-through raven perched on a branch in one of the trees. Mimir explained it was a raven of Odin, "spies" his father had called it right before obliterating it. 

Atreus would've too, if he had his bow or if he could recall his knife. 

He glared at the raven before continuing on.

[-]

He couldn't tell how much longer he'd been walking when he realized the snow was picking up. He was a bit unfamiliar with the path he was trying to follow, it twisted and turned too many directions to settle on a single path. The last time he was on this path, he was chasing a boar, which was what lead him to where his mind was trying to take him. After making the last squeeze through a small passage way and dropping to the ground below, he paused in front of the seamless dead end wall of vines and roots. His mind replayed the encounter.

While on their journey, they side tracked for a small track-and-hunt. The boar he'd been tracking turned out to be a magical, one of a kind creature, and that boar was the friend of one of the most baffling person they'd met. 

Freya had been appalled when she came face to face with the creature collapsed on its side, an arrow sticking out of its hind while it squealed and shrieked. Her reaction was what made Atreus worry, realizing he had done something wrong. His father had arrived a mere moments later and begrudgingly helped. It was the only time Atreus can think that he'd stopped on their journey to help someone else. 

They had thought she was a witch at first, chanting something to the boar to help it. She had used magic repeatedly, including in the very spot Atreus was standing. She'd used magic to reveal a path beyond what nature was currently blocking.

Atreus took a deep breath, looking around him for a second before copying the movements he'd seen Freya do, touching and grabbing a small handful of earth and repeating the incantation to it as he cast it along the blockade.

" _Greiða_." he whispers, watching the dirt turn to a mist that latched and spoke to the roots, beckoning them to move. He felt a swell of pride in his chest, breaking out into a grin as he subconsciously turned around to see his fathers reaction, but paused, his smile abruptly fell when he grounded himself back to why he was here in the first place. The pride he felt was squashed and replaced by a numb nothingness.

Quietly, he trudged on. 

[~]

Atreus knew where he was, but he couldn't tell you why he came _here_. He couldn't tell you why he kept walking when he should've left immediately. 

He couldn't tell you why he didn't leave the moment his mind caught up with him and he realized he had just knocked on the front door of Freya's home.

Before he could actually debate running, the door suddenly swung open, revealing a disheveled and angry Freya. The only thing that his mind was able to think were the last words she had said to his father, her warnings, her _threat_ -

His breathing hitched when her eyes landed on him. She had the same look in her eyes as the last day he saw her, they looked empty and unfocused, but also attentive to every single thing around her.

"Atreus, child." she sighed heavily, gripping her door frame with anger, eyes narrowing down at the small boy as she seemed to also remember what happened the last time they saw one another. "What are you doing here?" she snapped.

"I-I just-"

"I _warned_ you _and_ your father my promise if I ever saw you two-"

"He's not with me." Atreus suddenly blurted, interrupting her injunction. She went still for a moment, her head twitched as she stared him down.

"What?"

"Father. He's... he doesn't know I'm here." 

She didn't answer, which made Atreus nervous, but he learned to recognize certain silences as something more than just. Her silence allowed for him to observe her a bit more, he was able to see the dirt that smudged her face and hands, the way her fingers twitched and shook when she held them still for too long and would tighten her hold on the door.

"Then why are you here?" she eventually spoke, keeping her voice harsh.

"I..." he looked into her eyes, watching as they stared him down, making him feel small. His gaze wandered down to the side of her porch. "I'm..." he tried again, but instead fell into silence and gave up. What was he going to say? What _could_ he say? How could he _possibly_ explain to her what was going on? 

She slowly began to figure out his mien, her grip on the door relaxed and her features softened.

"Atreus..."

"No, I'm-" he shook his head, keeping his gaze down, "-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here." he backed up, prepared to turn and leave.

"Atreus, wait." she spoke again, her voice having softened to something of a comforting-motherly tone.

Atreus lifted his head, looking at her and watching as she stepped back from her door, opening it wider and gesturing inside. He hesitated, but eventually stepped forward and entered the home. 

He couldn't tell whether to be on guard or to be relaxed, mainly since he'd only ever known of her home was as somewhere _safe_. She had taken care of him here, nursed him back to health, and yet here he was, standing in fear of something irrational like being stabbed. This was _Freya_. 

He turned to look back at her, but something instead caught his eye. The same bed he had been laying on when he became deathly ill on their journey was instead being rested upon by someone else. 

By _Baldur._

Atreus was frozen in place, he didn't want to take a step back and he sure as hell didn't want to take a step forward. From where he was, he could see how very clearly dead the man was. 

Whenever his father would sleep, his breaths were heavy and often times quick, but Baldur? Baldur wasn't breathing at all, his pale and lifeless body was instead laying stiff, laying _dead_ , because of him and his father.

It was a mistake coming here. 

He wearily turned to face Freya, who had her attention on her son. She paid Atreus no mind, closing the door and making her way back to the bedside.

Atreus wasn't sure whether he should run or stay in place.

Instead he settled for an even stupider plan. He wanted to get closer, but one glance down at his hip where his knife rested told him being close with it wouldn't be a good idea...not that he could actually _do anything_ with it anyway. He gently removed his knife from the leather hilt, the sound causing Freya's head to snap in his direction. She gave him a threatening look the second her eyes landed on the knife.

He raised both his hands, an attempt way of telling her he wasn't going to do anything and waited till he was confident that _she_ wasn't going to do anything when he moved. He carefully took a few steps back towards the table and set his dagger on top of it. She still hadn't taken her eyes off him, but she seemed a lot less apprehensive once the knife was settled away, returning her gaze back to her son. 

Atreus was still a little hesitant to approach, but he slowly made his way over to them, hovering on the step and making sure to keep his distance out of fear of _both_ of the two Gods in front of him. 

The sight of Baldur, dead or not, made him feel ill- feel _off_. He felt a dull ache in his shoulder where Baldur had stabbed him, reaching an irresolute hand up and gripping where the scarring wound was. 

If Freya had noticed, she didn't say anything. 

"Have..." Atreus tried to find the right words, "...have you been trying to bring him back to life?" he asked. She didn't answer, but the way her face flashed to a defeated look for a brief moment was his answer. _Of course_ she was trying, she's probably been trying for so long...maybe _too_ long. 

She ignored the question and instead moved her gaze back to him, her eyes softening. She quietly stood from her kneeling spot on the bedside and walked over to her shelf, where she picked up a red cloth and a small wooden bowl. She gathered water from her cauldron and then quietly knelt beside him. 

Atreus wasn't entirely sure what she was doing, but the moment the warm wet cloth gently began to wipe at his cheek, he remembered the blood that was staining his face and clothes. He could only wonder what her initial reaction to seeing him in such a state was when he first arrived. 

"You never answered my question, Atreus." her voice was a gentler, it sounded like what he had heard her whisper to him when he was sick. He couldn't remember what she said, but he remembered feeling comforted by it. "Why are you here? I can't imagine your father letting you come here without his approval."

Atreus was hesitant to respond, instead quelling the pain and hurt that coursed through his body and leaned his head into her touch. "Father doesn't know," Atreus all but whispered, slowly raising his eyes to her, "can... we keep it that way?" 

She paused to answer, but eventually nodded. "It'll be our secret." she frowned, the look on her face told him 'disappointment', but then again it wasn't like she would be talking to Kratos anytime soon to tell him that Atreus had been here.

She finished wiping the blood from his face and stood up, pausing to look down at Baldur. She looked tired, she looked _angry_ , and Atreus knew part of that was because of him. The guilt settling in him for that never ceased since the day it happened. 

"I'm sorry about your son."

"I am too." she smiles faintly, finally moving to put away her items and clean the cloth she used. "I only ever wanted to keep him safe," she continued, returning to her seat and gently stroked Baldur's cold cheek with her thumb, "I went through great lengths to ensure that, but in doing so I took away something from him, in doing so I lost him." she turned her gaze back to look at Atreus.

"Baldur did a lot of bad things. I... don't think he was a good guy at all, but seeing how much you care about him makes me feel sad that father killed him." Atreus looked at his lifeless body, even dead he was afraid of him. Baldur was dangerous, he had too many encounters to back up that claim. "He wasn't a threat at the end, but he was hurting you! He was going to kill you Freya-!" he looked up at her, "I-I didn't- I don't _want_ you to die..."

She watched as the distress rose in him, kneeling down and gently grabbing him by the shoulders. He'd grown, she realized, his hair just slightly longer then when she last saw him, he appeared more tired too. 

"It wasn't your fathers choice to make whether I lived or died... whether _my son_ lived or died. It wasn't your fathers place to intervene when my son had the choice to kill me or let me live." she hardened her voice, gripping his shoulders a bit, "Do you understand why I said what I did to your father?"

He didn't. Atreus didn't understand one bit why she wanted to bring someone back who wanted her dead, but then he forced himself to remember that this was _her_ _son,_ dead by _their_ hands, she cared more about him than she did herself and wanted him to be safe, that was why she had put that spell on him, why she offered up her own life to him in the first place. 

"I..I understand." he nodded. 

She relaxed after that, letting out a small sigh of relief and giving him a small smile. She leaned down to give him a small kiss on the forehead, a gentle motherly kiss that Atreus thought he'd never get again. He felt tears brimming his eyes, almost prepared to let the tears fall, but forced himself against it. She gently moved her hands from his shoulders down his arms to gently hold his hands, but was startled when Atreus suddenly jerked his left hand away with a wince. 

She looked down in surprise by the sudden pained implication and at his hand. 

Atreus had managed to completely forget what had happened earlier, he couldn't tell if he was happy about that or not, but now that she saw, he knew he was undoubtedly going to be questioned. _Definitely not happy_ , he came here as a result of trying to _forget_ what happened earlier, now...

"Your hand." she spoke softly, gently holding her her hand out to take his and examine it. 

"It's.." he looked down at his hand, at the cloth wrapped around it soaked in blood. He gently pushed up his sleeve, allowing her to see just how far and deep the wounds had actually gone, something he was indifferent to the fact his father hadn't noticed. 

"Have a seat, I'll see what I can do to help." she speaks gently, gesturing to the chair beside the bed and stepped over to her shelves once again. Atreus felt his body go cold at the thought of being so close to the man who tried to kill him. He carefully tugged the chair a bit away from the bed and wearily sat down, his eyes staring at the lifeless body as if expecting it to lurch forward and strangle him. 

"Baldur was looking for my mother." Atreus spoke, hesitating to move his eyes from the body to look at Freya instead. She paused to glance quizzically at him. "Well- at least that was the working theory at first." he smiled nervously. "He showed up at our house after Mother's funeral, looking for someone. We thought he was after Father for some reason, but then we found out he was looking for mother since she was a giant." he frowned.

"I can only assume my husband had a part in directing him there." she sighs, a sympathetic look casts on her face before disappearing. 

"I wouldn't know really. Once he figured out Father was traveling with someone, he tracked us. He must've thought I was mother, but then figured out I was her son and tried to kidnap me." he subconsciously rubbed at the phantom ache of the healed wound on his shoulder. 

Freya looked very deep in thought, her eyebrows furrowed as she made her way back to his side with a second chair from her table. She seated herself on it in front of Atreus, setting a few of the items on the bed beside Baldur's body. 

"I'm sorry for whatever pain he caused... the path my son followed was a result of what I had done, I'm sorry child." she spoke gently. 

"It's alright, a lot of the journey was new experiences I'd never thought I'd get, good and bad." he smiled half heartedly. Freya gently returned the smile before taking his hand and undoing the cloth around it. 

She observed it, her eyes scanning the wounds with both interest and concern. 

"What happened?" she asked, gently letting go of his hand and reaching for her mortar and pestle. There were mostly ingredients in various pouches and containers, as well as a small vial of a liquid. Atreus didn't answer, his eyes moved instead to glance over at her glass pane that reflected an image of Vanaheim. 

"I'd rather not talk about it." he frowned. 

"Of course." she placed her hand on his shoulder to give a gentle, reassuring squeeze. It pulled his attention back to her, which she took the opportunity to gesture to her ingredients. "Were you taught any magic?" she asks. 

"Not really, Father uses weapons instead of words. Mimir has been teaching me some stuff though, but I'm not very good at it." he gives a half smile. 

"Well, let me see if I can teach you something." she smiles. "Here you have an Orris Root flower," she shows the strange shaped flower which Atreus notes vaguely looked like the Nightshade plant, "you only need a single flower for this particular batch." she places it into the mortar. "Then a handful of Rue and Lobelia," she adds them as well and begins to crush them together. She lastly lifts the small vial, pulling the wooden cork out showing him the liquid. "Then finally, water from a pond under a full moon." she smiles at the amused-bemused expression that came from Atreus. 

"Why a full moon?"

"It's believed wolves are strongest on a full moon, and since water is said to be a source of life, combined together creates a useful and powerful extract." she added it to the mortar. 

"Must be fun trying to get that stuff then with full strength wolves and wulvurs running around at the same time." he chuckled.

"It's a different experience each time," she smiles, "typically dangerous, but it brings excitement." she began mixing the contents. They fell into a silence, Atreus closely watching her work and glancing back at the ingredients, committing them to memory as best he could. Once she had finished, she held her hand out for Atreus's injured one, which he gently set atop of hers. 

She gently applied the paste along his wounds, pausing when he flinched and whispering gentle apologies. Once his wounds were coated, she moved her other hand to hover over them, closing her eyes and focusing her magic.

"Ahlúttre þá séocnes..." she opened her eyes, watching a small glow form on her palm, "Þurhhæle bræd." she finished. Atreus was beyond fascinated. 

"Whoa..." he grinned, "I can't wait till I learn to do that." he looked up at her. 

"I'm sure I have some old books I can part with, although I don't know how your father would feel about you suddenly returning with them." she gently began wrapping his hand back up with clean linen wrappings. 

"I'll figure something out, I come home sometimes with random things from my exploring trips that he doesn't know about." he smiled sheepishly. 

She let out a faint laugh and stood, moving towards her shelves across the room and looking along the books. Atreus turned his attention down to his hand, not used to his wounds getting properly treated, especially this way. His attention locks back onto Baldur. He remembered his father breaking his neck, it was what killed him in the end, but it didn't look like it. He laid normally, despite being lifeless and stiff, he didn't look like he had any wounds in fact. 

That small but vital notion hit him in his chest hard, and answered his earlier question. Freya had used healing spells on him, she probably tried everything she ever knew and more to heal and save her son. Except it didn't revive him, it healed his body of injury, but it didn't bring life back to it. No spell could bring Baldur back, and even if there was one that could, it wouldn't be him. 

Freya returned moments later, pausing when she saw Atreus staring. 

"Your father must be worried about you, shouldn't you be heading home?" she asks, sitting back down and resting the books on her lap. 

"Yeah, I should be." he nodded, frowning a bit. "I just... I don't know if I want to be home right now." he sighs. He hadn't exactly left things on good terms, they'd have to talk about it, they _will_ talk about it, and that's what he dreaded.

He momentarily wonders if Freya knew a memory removing spell. 

"What if I walked with you? I won't go all the way, as I will still live up to my promise if I see your father." she frowned. 

"If... If you don't mind, actually. It'd be nice to walk home with someone else for a change." he smiles sadly. Her expression softened at the sight, thinking such a sad look didn't belong on someone like Atreus. 

"Well then," she licked her thumb and gently wiped away a small spot of blood she missed on his cheek, "let's get going then." she says, standing from her chair and allowing Atreus to take the books. He nods, his eyes lighting up for the first time since he arrived as he holds them carefully, they're smaller than he thought they'd be, but they were thick, the pages all filled with new knowledge. He stepped over to the table where his knife was placed and sheathed it back into his hilt. He turned to look at Freya, pausing when he watched her kneel beside the bed and gently stroke along the side of Baldur's face with the back of her fingers, a motherly gesture of affection, a gesture Baldur couldn't feel. 

She stands, giving one last look to her son before turning to Atreus and nodding to the door. They step out into the cold, snowy outdoors. Atreus missed the way the sun shone on the grass and flowers, instead a constant fog dimmed the sky and the snow covered nature below it, but he also couldn't help but appreciate the way the snow made everything look, it had it's own sense of peacefulness and it made his lips twitch into a small smile. 

One step into the snow, a deep breath of fresh air and Freya glanced down at Atreus. He met her gaze, his small twitching smile widened a bit. As small as it was, his was familiar, it was genuine, and soon enough she found herself smiling too. It was the first real smile she's given since loosing her son, one that met her eyes. 

And at the sight, Atreus's smile met his eyes too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this specific chapter has been stuck in my drafts for almost two months,,,, also I hate writing out scenes of characters getting from point A to B, I think they're tedious, but I also hate using time-skips all the time so please excuse the inconsistency ;;


End file.
